


cinnamon sugared puppy love

by jeien



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Baking, Crushes, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 23:59:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17151473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeien/pseuds/jeien
Summary: Riku bakes Touma bread. Touma might just be a little in love.





	cinnamon sugared puppy love

**Author's Note:**

> just a quite little fic for the amazing and talented [judee](https://twitter.com/judeeburr) because i had to get her back for suddenly drawing me birthday art. it's my first time writing as both riku and touma so... we'll see what happens!! lol
> 
> I TOLD YOU I'D DO IT

“You are not baking from scratch, Nanase-san.”

“The doctor says I’ve gotten better so I can handle those kinds of things!” Riku says, tone heavily conveying an unsaid _Do you NOT trust the doctor who is a certified expert unlike a certain naggy sixteen-year-old who treats me like I’m five and not nineteen?_

To Iori’s credit, he either doesn’t see the bait or chooses to ignore it completely. “ _He_ may have given you the okay, but that doesn’t mean _you_ won’t end up clumsily going about the kitchen like a newborn fawn and causing some form of collateral damage along the way.”

Seeing Riku and Iori fight is not uncommon, even in their private lives. From the living room, Sougo and Yamato neatly sip their cups of tea while Mitsuki briefly pauses behind the kitchen counter to listen in before going back to cutting the vegetables for the day’s lunch.  

“ _Rude!_ ” Riku is not above throwing back the most petulant frown he can muster—and that’s exactly what he does as he says, “I just want to make something myself since homemade gifts are more personal!”

“Yes, I understand the sentiment. But do you think I want Tenn Kujo prying open the double-locked doors of the dormitory with murderous intent after hearing you had an attack from the flour and sugar and yeast you’d be using?” Iori counters, unrelenting. He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes sternly, model disciplinarian in a sixteen-year-old body. Before Riku can speak up to retort, Iori continues, “And even if you didn’t have an attack, do you think Tenn Kujo will let us off easy knowing that we consented to letting you work with things that can potentially trigger one?”

(“Hah. Trigger,” Yamato laughs under his breath. Sougo quietly shushes him before the two can hear.)

Their verbal rally continues its neat, alternating course for a couple of more minutes until Tamaki, who had wandered in during another point being raised about not wanting to deal with the prospects of an angry Tenn, completely breaks up the tension with an oblivious, “Oh, Tenten’s coming?”

“That’s not what I said, Yotsuba-san—!”

“Alright, enough from the both of you!” Mitsuki shouts from the kitchen, loud enough to even make the living room duo jolt in surprise. He crosses his arms similar to Iori, but with much more experienced ease. (Considering how long they’ve all known, worked, and communed with one another, Mitsuki is _extremely_ experienced.) “Come on, you two are professionals. Act a little more mature, won’t you? If you two are butting heads, then at least compromise with one another.”

“Yeah, practice negotiating or something,” Yamato agrees from the sofa. Riku and Iori look at him, slowly starting to deflate from the argument now that they’re not metaphorically going for each other’s throats. “Super handy skill to have in the business.”

“Riku-kun can bake his sweets with premade dough to keep his exposure to fine grains to a minimum,” Sougo suggests helpfully. “For any other ground items, he can wear a mask to cover his nose and mouth to keep any irritants out. Mitsuki-san can also supervise him to make sure the kitchen’s safe. Would those be acceptable terms?”

“I can do that,” says Mitsuki.

“We’ll accept those terms,” says Yamato.

“Then it’s settled.”

The three adults nod and return to their calm, quiet, and orderly whatever-it-was-they-were-doing. The three younger ones blink at the seamless transition of conversation and collectively think _Wow, adults are scary_.

A moment of pure silence passes.

“So,” Tamaki says with an experimental drawl, “Tenten’s not coming over?”

 

* * *

 

A quick trip to the store later, Riku has everything he needs to make his gift. He decided on making a shortcut monkey bread using premade cinnamon roll dough with a cream cheese. As per the terms of the negotiation, he’s being supervised by Mitsuki’s trained eyes and he’s wearing a mask to protect him from the cinnamon sugar coating they’re giving the dough balls.

“I’ve been wondering,” Mitsuki says, helping Riku pinch the seams of the dough balls for a tighter seal. “You said you were making these as a gift, right? Who are they for?”

“They’re for Touma-san!”

“Touma, as in Touma Inumaru?” Well, he vaguely remembers Riku chatting up about running into the guy and how nice he was and how he gave him bread. But that had been a while ago, back when they were still treading on thin ice around Zool. Things are all settled and they’re all at least civil acquaintances with one another so would there really be a need to pay something like that back?

Unless—

“I just wanted to give him something, is all,” Riku says in a rare instance of insight. Like he knows what Mitsuki is thinking. Like he’s answered those kinds of questions before. “He’s a really, really nice guy. I thought it’d be an equally nice surprise.”  

Oh.

Oh, this sweet summer child.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it, Riku!”

Riku smiles with the brightness of a thousand sunny days. “I hope so!”

Mitsuki can’t help but think, _He better or else we’ll all be after him_ _and **that** is non-negotiable_.  

 

* * *

 

He’s received a lot of things in his lifetime: fan letters, gifts, money, confessions. Admittedly, though, he’s never exactly received a saran-wrapped bundt pan held right up to his face.

Touma needs a few seconds more to process things.

“Uh?”

“Surprise!” comes the familiar lilt of Riku Nanase, with a heart-stopping grin to accompany it. Not that his heart actually stops or even stutters at the sight. Nope. “Bet you didn’t expect me, huh Touma-san?”

“You can sure say that again,” Touma mutters under his breath. To think that just a few moments ago, he finally thought he’d go one day without having this red sunbeam cross his mind. But Riku Nanase always finds a way to come back into his thoughts, go against expectation, never stay down and out even when people want him to.

“Anyway, I made this for you!” Riku says, pushing the bundt pan into his arms. Touma looks down at the container and, through the saran wrap, a dark kind of dessert with streaks of white glaze on top. “It’s a cinnamon roll monkey bread! But, well, I guess it’d be more of a puppy bread since your name is Inumaru?”

 _God_ , Touma wants to keep him forever.

“Thanks, I guess,” are the only words he manages to say, which is pretty lame of him despite the bad boy image. “I’m sure it tastes great. I’ll let you know later.”

“Yeah, please do! If you like it, I’ll make it again for you!”

Riku is in and out like a passing storm, whisked away by his manager’s car before Touma even has the chance to think of inviting him in for something to drink. It might have been his imagination—or, sensibly, it might just be from the cold weather—but he could have sworn that the tips of Riku’s ears were a little red.

He goes back inside his home and unwraps the monkey bread. It’s still a little warm. Freshly made. _It’s good_ , Touma thinks to himself as he lets the flavor melt on his tongue. _I’ll tell Riku_.

Against his better judgement, he entertains the thought of eventually tasting Riku on his tongue, too.

**Author's Note:**

> come scream with me at [twitter](https://twitter.com/jeienb)!


End file.
